


Eating Out

by reeder



Series: Haunted Hill, Silent Ground [4]
Category: Demento | Haunting Ground, Silent Hill (Video Game Series)
Genre: F/F, Heather and Fiona Do the Do, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Sweet Sex, These two are gay and awkward and doing their best, that's it that's the whole plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 05:40:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14909405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reeder/pseuds/reeder
Summary: After the events of Wounds You've Never Noticed Before, Heather and Fiona go out to lunch, and then eat something entirely different...





	Eating Out

**Author's Note:**

> So, as you might have guessed from the tags and the summary, there's sex in this fic. If you're uncomfortable reading that kind of stuff, then you should probably pass on this one. If you're not, enjoy my attempts to write decent smut

“I'm guessing that this is the restaurant?” Fiona said, staring up at the large sign saying “Bone Ap- _pet_ -it!” She looked over at Heather, who had covered her face with her hand. Fiona could still see her blush, though, and she bit her lip to keep herself from laughing. How adorable.

“Yeah, this's the place,” Heather muttered, standing up straight again and bringing her hand down from her face. Her cheeks were still quite red, but she glowered at the restaurant's sign anyways. Fiona smiled, endeared by Heather's attempt to save face. She bent down slightly and ghosted her lips over Heather's cheek in the lightest of kisses.

“Thank you,” she said softly, “It's very sweet.” Heather's blush flared back up, and she groaned, pulling Fiona towards the entrance. Hewie kept pace with Fiona, which she greatly appreciated. The streets were relatively empty, and the dusk gave the world a haunting sort of glow. She stifled a shudder and kept walking.

The inside of Bone Ap- _pet_ -it (she covered her mouth to hide her smile) was fairly busy, which was a relief. The light was still dim, but it was more Romantic than Gothic. There were an awful lot of dogs, under the tables, sitting in chairs, and Fiona could feel Heather slowly stiffening beside her. She squeezed Heather's hand in reassurance and whispered in her ear, “Hewie can take any of these dogs in a fight.” What she really wanted to say was that they could leave if Heather was scared, but she knew from experience that Heather would only get defensive. Better not to ruin the night. In any case, Heather was relaxing (a bit), and a host was coming up to them and asking if they were a party of two. Fiona confirmed, and they were led to a small table for two, nestled nicely in the corner. Heather took the outside seat, leaving her with her back to the rest of the room. Fiona settled in the other seat, secured on both sides by the walls, and felt her heart flutter. Heather hated having her back to people as much as Fiona did (too vulnerable), and letting her have the better seat...Well, it was sweet. Hewie flopped down at Fiona's feet, scanning the dining room, which was also sweet. She stroked his head as thanks. She'd stroke Heather as thanks too, but that might be a little risqué out in public. Oh, my, she blushed, where did that thought come from?

“You alright?” Heather asked, looking at Fiona quizzically, “You're looking kinda overheated.”

Fiona waved the question off. “Oh, it's just a little warm in here,” she said. Heather looked dubious, but shrugged and went back to looking at the menu. Ah, right. It would probably be best to decide what she wanted to eat, wouldn't it? She glanced over the options, but found herself studying Heather's face more than the menu. She was so cute, with her brow furrowed as she decided what she wanted to eat. Honestly Fiona would rather eat Heather right now but– Fiona blushed even brighter. What was going on with her today? She buried her face in the menu and focused on what to order.

The waitress came by shortly after, and Fiona managed to order without getting distracted. Again. With the menus gone, however, there was nothing to keep Fiona's mind from wandering. She valiantly attempted to keep her mind on the conversation she and Heather had struck up, but when Heather lifted her water glass to take a sip, Fiona was momentarily transfixed by Heather's hands. They had felt so warm and firm earlier that day...Oh. Oh. Well, that certainly explained what was going on in Fiona's head. Her blush resurfaced, and Heather leaned forward in her seat. “Okay, seriously, what's going on?”

Fiona squirmed in her seat before covering her face in embarrassment. “I'm, a bit worked up from before,” she said quietly, hoping Heather would drop the subject.

“A bit worked up? What do you–” Heather stopped abruptly, and blushed a bit herself. “Oh,” she said. Sliding down in her seat slightly, she fiddled with her shirt collar. “I'm, uh, still kinda worked up too,” she muttered. The two sat there in awkward silence, faces red, refusing to make eye contact with each other. Finally, after what felt like an eternity to Fiona, Heather spoke up again. “You know, we can always, uh, pick up where we left off once we get home.”

Fiona felt her face somehow getting warmer, and she nodded shyly. “I'd,” her voice came out a little strained and high-pitched, and she cleared her throat. “I'd like that very much.” Still unable to bring herself to look Heather in the eye, Fiona focused on Heather's fidgeting fingers.

“Yeah, same,” Heather said nervously. Fiona heard her take a deep breath. Then, in a much more confident and assured tone, she said “So after lunch we'll go back home and,” her voice trailed off slightly before coming back just as strong, “And do what feels right.” Fiona nodded again, unable to find her voice. Luckily, the waitress came by with their food (and a biscuit for Hewie), and Heather was summarily distracted. Now Fiona's only issue was making it home without spontaneously combusting. Her face certainly felt warm enough to do it.

* * *

After a surprisingly delicious dinner (they'd have to go back sometime), they took a leisurely walk home. Though one hand was occupied with holding Hewie's leash, Fiona brushed her fingers against Heather's hand until Heather linked their fingers together in a loose hold. Fiona smiled.

Soon enough, though, they made it to Fiona's apartment. Heather pulled out her key before Fiona had the chance to release Heather's hand to get her own. Squeezing Heather's hand to let her know she appreciated the considerate gesture, Fiona followed her into the apartment. While Heather shut and locked the door behind them (three separate ones plus a chain lock just to be safe), Fiona let Hewie off his leash and hung it back on its hook. Fiddling with the end of the leash, too nervous to turn around, she was unprepared for Heather coming up behind her and hugging her. Letting out a quiet squeak and dropping the leash, Fiona quickly put her hands over Heather's so that she wouldn't pull away. “Is this okay?” Heather mumbled into the crook of Fiona's neck, pulling back slightly so her hands could trace gentle patterns just below Fiona's breasts.

Fiona nodded, then whispered, “Yes. More than okay.” As Heather caressed her body, Fiona felt warmth slowly rising within her, like embers being stoked into a blazing fire. When Heather started to kiss her neck, she moaned quietly and leaned back into the embrace.

“Bedroom,” Heather rasped into Fiona's ear before gently biting her earlobe. Fiona whimpered at both Heather's voice and her teeth, and her knees grew weak. She reached back to grab at Heather's hair, holding her in place. Heather let out a low, rumbling growl that resonated throughout Fiona's body before biting down a bit harder. “Bedroom,” she said firmly, walking forward. Fiona moved with her, past Hewie (who was keeping watch, making sure that Fiona was safe), and into the bedroom.

As soon as they passed the threshold into the room, Heather kicked the door shut. Fiona could hear Hewie scratching at the door and whining. “Hewie, stay,” she called out, trying to sound firm even as she leaned further into Heather (who had moved on from her ear and was now kissing down her neck). The scratching stopped and she heard the quiet thud of Hewie flopping down in front of the door. She opened her mouth to praise him, but then Heather bit down on her neck and a moan escaped instead. “Kiss me,” Fiona said breathlessly, wanting, needing the connection.

She could feel Heather smiling into her neck. “I am,” she said, pressing soft kisses over the area she had just bitten. When Fiona huffed, Heather chuckled and spun her around. She threw her arms around Fiona's neck and brought her down for a long, slow kiss. Fiona felt her mind spinning out of control and next thing she knew, she had Heather pressed up against the door, her hands skimming under Heather's shirt, over the planes of her back. Heather stared up at her, pupils blown wide, breathing heavily. “Wow,” she said breathlessly, “Keep doing that.” With that said she pulled Fiona down for another kiss, and another, and another, and Fiona kept exploring Heather's skin (soft but riddled with scars Heather never liked to talk about).

Finally Fiona pulled back slightly and whispered into Heather's lips, “Bed?” Heather hissed out a yes and threw herself into a messy, open-mouthed kiss with Fiona as they slowly made their way over to the bed. When Fiona felt the edge of the bed on the back of her knees, she broke their kiss and let herself fall onto the blankets.

“Fuck,” Heather muttered, eyes darting up and down Fiona's body. Before Fiona could get too self-conscious, though, Heather pulled off her shirt and shimmied out of her pants, and then it was Fiona's turn to stare in awe and not a little bit of lust. Somehow, Heather in a mismatched sports bra and panties was the hottest thing Fiona had ever seen. She reached up plaintively, needing to feel Heather's skin on hers, and Heather fell into the embrace. They both scooted further onto the bed so that they could stretch out fully, and just as Fiona was starting to feel a bit anxious and confined by Heather's weight on her, Heather flipped them over so that Fiona was the one on top. “Off,” Heather muttered, pushing Fiona's shirt up and running her hands over Fiona's sides.

“Yes,” Fiona gasped. She sat up and straddled Heather properly, then pulled her shirt off in one smooth movement. Heather bolted upright, kissing Fiona hard and undoing the clasp of her bra. As soon as Fiona felt her bra straps go slack, Heather leaned back, drawing Fiona's bra off in the process. She propped herself up on her elbows and shamelessly stared at Fiona's bare chest, and the sheer hunger in her eyes made Fiona squirm in unsatisfied arousal. “Please?” she asked, staring down at Heather plaintively, flushed from her chest all the way up.

She didn't have to wait long. Heather cupped her breasts, running her thumbs over her nipples before drawing one into her mouth and laving it with her tongue. Fiona moaned and arched into Heather's touch, wanting more. When Heather lightly bit her nipple, she whimpered and grabbed at her hair. “I,” Fiona said breathlessly, “I want to see you too.” After nipping lightly at Fiona's breast, Heather leaned back and pulled her sports bra off. “Oh,” Fiona breathed, lightly trailing her fingers over the newly-bared skin. It was so warm and so, so soft. Fiona sank down on top of Heather, kissing her softly and tracing circles around her nipples until they were hard enough to cut glass.

Heather arched into her touch and moaned into her mouth. Fiona felt Heather's hands skimming across her back before squeezing her ass. Going with the motion, Fiona ground herself against Heather's thigh, moaning softly at the feeling. “Fuck,” Heather hissed, “You're so wet.” Blushing, Fiona retaliated by giving Heather's nipple a pinch. Heather moaned and buried her face in Fiona's neck, giving it some light nips.

“You are too,” Fiona said breathily. And she definitely was. Fiona could feel the heat and wetness of Heather's arousal through her panties. She wondered how it would feel on her fingers, against her tongue, and was gripped by a need to find out. “Can you, I mean,” she cut herself off and bit her lip, unsure of how to ask for what she wanted.

“Can I what?” Heather asked, still kneading her ass. For a moment, Fiona forgot what she was even going to ask, too caught up in the sensation of Heather's thigh rubbing against her. “What do you want?” Heather repeated, whispering it into Fiona's ear.

Shuddering and letting out a quiet mewl, Fiona said, “Can you take off your underwear? I want to,” she threw caution to the wind, “I want to see you, I want to touch you, I want to taste you.”

Heather moaned. “Fuuuuck, yeah,” she said, “Yeah, you definitely can.” Flush with anticipation, Fiona shifted her weight onto her hands and feet, allowing Heather space to shimmy out of her panties. She threw them somewhere off the bed, but Fiona couldn't care less about where they ended up. Collapsing back onto Heather, Fiona drew her into a kiss. Even as she kissed Heather like their lives depended on it, Fiona stroked Heather's sides. Heather's hands found their apparent new favorite place on Fiona's ass, and Heather broke the kiss. “Can you take off yours?” she said quickly, breathlessly, before stiffening up and blurting out, “You don't have to if you don't want to or if you're feeling uncomfortable or something, I wanna feel you too but if you don't I get–” Fiona cut her off with another kiss.

“I'm not uncomfortable,” she said quietly, cupping Heather's face in her hands. Maybe if she was with someone else, she would, but she was with Heather. Strong Heather, who punched a man that wouldn't take no for an answer. Sturdy Heather, who took Fiona's weight easily. Sweet Heather, who gave Hewie treats and Fiona kisses, who listened and shared and treated Fiona like a person instead of a treasure or a broken mess.

While peppering Heather's face with light kisses, Fiona said, “I love you, I want to touch you, I want you to touch me.” She looked into Heather's eyes. “Please, Cheryl.”

Heather inhaled sharply, her eyes wide, pupils dilated. “Yeah, sure,” she said hoarsely, hesitantly, like she couldn't believe what was happening. Slowly, carefully, Heather slipped her hands under the waistband of Fiona's panties, drawing them down her legs. Fiona shifted and kicked them off completely, before settling back down against Heather. “Fffuck,” Heather hissed, gripping Fiona's legs just a bit too tight before shifting her hands back up to knead her ass.

As much as she loved the feel of Heather's hands on her, Fiona was dying for a taste of her. Pushing Heather's hands up her back, she slid down Heather's body until she was lying on her stomach and staring at Heather's...Heather. Gently, Fiona stroked the wet, hot folds in front of her, feeling Heather's thigh tense under the hand she placed there for balance. “You're so gorgeous,” she whispered, pulling her (wet) fingers back and tasting them. She looked up from under her eyelashes at Heather, who was trembling and wild-eyed and clutching the sheets. “You can touch me, you know,” she said, reaching for Heather's wrist to guide her hand on top of her head. Heather grabbed at Fiona's hair for a second, before relaxing her hand and stroking her hair instead. The tender action caused a different kind of warmth to well up in Fiona, but when she remembered where exactly she was and what exactly she was doing, the warmth was overshadowed by _heat_.

Wrapping her arms underneath Heather's thighs, Fiona nuzzled and pressed kisses to her inner thigh. Hearing Heather's long, drawn-out breath (it was almost a whimper, but not quite), Fiona moved up, up, until she was met with heat and slick and couldn't help but try to taste directly from the source.

Before, before the castle, before the horrors Fiona went through, she was a normal college student with normal friends-who-were-girls. And they gossiped, as normal college girls were wont to do. Gossip about classmates, about professors, about celebrities, but most importantly, about boyfriends. Though Fiona had never gone beyond second base with a boyfriend, her friends had a wealth of information about boys and their various...shortcomings in bed. One of her friends went on at length about how she tried to get her boyfriend to go on a diet to make his, stuff, taste better, but how it never worked.

Fiona didn't have that problem with Heather. She didn't taste like mango or peaches or roses, but she was tangy and a little salty and that was more than enough (Heather's noises alone would've kept Fiona going: she didn't know Heather could make such cute whines and moans). Emboldened by both taste and sound, Fiona sped up her licks, alternating between licking the whole of Heather and swirling her tongue around her clit. She paid attention to Heather's reactions, trying to figure out which she liked better. Judging by the bucking hips and spluttered profanity, she preferred the attention to her clit. So, Fiona doubled down.

“Fuck! Oh, oh fucking, christ,” Heather moaned, “Keep going, god! Keep going...” Soon enough, Heather's moans and swears turned into repeated babbling of Fiona's name. Feeling herself swell with pride (and arousal), Fiona decided it was time to show Heather mercy.

Lifting her head up for a moment (replacing her tongue with her fingers), Fiona looked at Heather and whispered, “Please, come for me, Cheryl.” Heather covered her mouth with one hand, clutched Fiona's head with the other, and came with a muted whimper before going limp. Seeing the mess between and on Heather's thighs, Fiona gently licked it up, feeling Heather's thighs give little twitches as she did so.

“Holy shit Fiona,” Heather said, one arm thrown over her eyes, “Where'd you learn to do that?” Blushing, Fiona hid her face in Heather's thigh. She heard Heather chuckle before running her hand through Fiona's hair. Feeling a little tug on her hair, Fiona peeked at Heather, who was looking at Fiona with so much tenderness and love it was almost too much. But very quickly, that soft expression turned into a devious smirk, and then Heather was pulling Fiona up, up, until Fiona was straddling Heather's head. “My turn,” Heather said, rubbing the inside of Fiona's thighs with her thumbs. Fiona, still blushing, let out a quiet 'oh'.

That quiet 'oh' soon turned to much louder 'oh's, as Heather buried her face between Fiona's thighs and ate her out like she was at a buffet. Fiona grabbed onto Heather's hair as if her life depended on it, unable to stay fully upright with the pleasure shooting through her like lightning. “Oh, Cheryl, please,” she moaned, not even knowing what she was asking for but trusting that Heather would give it to her. And she did.

Fiona panted, hands gripping the headboard to keep her from smacking her head into it, and stared down at Heather with wide eyes. Heather, on the other hand, was licking her lips and grinning like, well, the cat that ate out the canary. “I'm guessing you liked it?” Heather said teasingly.

Smiling both sheepishly and lovingly, Fiona got off of Heather and cuddled up to her side instead. “I liked it very much,” she said, pressing light kisses to Heather's neck. She could practically feel the pride coming off of Heather, and she felt her own heart flutter in response.

Wrapping her arms around Fiona, Heather nuzzled into her hair and said, “Good. I'd hate to think I made your first time shitty.” Oh. Right. This was, she was...They had had sex. They had had sex which meant Fiona wasn't a virgin anymore, which meant Heather forever had a piece of her which meant that she wasn't quite whole anymore but at the same time she wouldn't have to worry about someone like Riccardo trying to do what he did because she had already given up that piece of herself but was it really worth the loss and what–

“Hey, you alright?” Heather asked, cutting through the hazy, jumbled thoughts rushing through Fiona's brain.

“I, I think so,” she said, trying to calm herself down. They had sex. She wasn't a virgin anymore. She would never be a virgin again. But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. She wouldn't have to worry about someone else taking her virginity, because she gave it to Heather, who was absolutely worthy of it. She took a deep breath. It was okay. Everything was okay. In fact, she looked up at Heather, everything was perfect. Cupping Heather's cheek with her hand, Fiona gave Heather a peck on the lips and said, clearly, “I love you.”

She watched a blush slowly develop over Heather's face, before Heather buried her face in Fiona's neck and mumbled, “I love you too.” Fiona smiled, and closed her eyes. They'd had a long night, and they'd need their rest if they were to do it all again tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Since Heather was like "call me Cheryl" to Douglas at the end of SH3, I figured she'd say the same kinda thing to Fiona once they got close and started dating. Basically I hc Heather as going by Heather in public, and going by Cheryl in private (with those she trusts)


End file.
